Shadow Horse Read Free

is your opportunity to tell the judge your side of the story.”
    Jas shook her head without looking at him.
    “Your Honor, the defense rests,” he said in a resigned voice.
    When Mr. Sydow stood to summarize his case, Jas tuned him out. She already knew Hugh had won. Phil had tried, but unless she spoke up, she would be declared guilty. Petrie had already warned her what might happen.
    “Jasmine Schuler, please stand,” the judge said.
    Slowly, Jas and Petrie rose to their feet. The judge glanced down at the open file, thenup at her. “Miss Schuler, I have no choice but to find you guilty of assault. I place you on official probation and electronic monitoring. It’s also the order of the court that, since you have no relative to reside with at this time, you be placed in the custody of the Department of Social Services for placement in foster care.”
    The judge looked toward the back of the court. “Ms. Tomlinson, do you have a placement for this child?”
    “Yes, we do, Your Honor.”
    “Fine. I’m reviewing this case in forty-five days. Until that time, you must abide by the special conditions stated in your rules of probation, Miss Schuler. Ms. Tomlinson, you may accompany Miss Schuler to the probation office.”
    The gavel banged down. Jas trained her eyes on Hugh’s face, hoping he could feel her angry gaze drilling into his cheek.
    Even though he’d won, she knew who was really guilty. Her grandfather hadn’t put the yew branch in Whirlwind’s paddock. Hugh Robicheaux had. He’d killed his own horse.
    She just had to prove it.

Three

    MR. EYLER, THE PROBATION OFFICER, READ from the white sheet. “You are to report to me at least once a month. The period of time you remain on probation will depend upon your behavior.”
    He pointed to a line near the bottom. “Sign this statement showing that you understand the rules.”
    Jas forced herself to look where Mr. Eyler was pointing. Underneath the line was a space for the parent’s or guardian’s signature. Ms. Tomlinson, the social worker, had already signed it.
    She glanced up at Ms. Tomlinson. She was a middle-aged woman with a bad perm, a red nose, and bloodshot eyes. And for the next forty-five days, this person would be responsible for her.
    Picking up the pen, Jas scrawled her name.
    “I’ll meet with you on Friday,” Mr. Eyler said, separating the copies. He held the blue one out to Jas, who took the sheet. Ms. Tomlinson then led her out the door and into another room.
    “This is Mrs. Weisgerber,” Ms. Tomlinson introduced the woman sitting behind the desk. “She will be your juvenile case manager.”
    “I’ll have
three
people checking on me?” Jas spoke aloud for the first time since she’d entered the courtroom. The sound of her voice was strange, but the idea of three people watching over her was even stranger.
    Since her grandmother had died, Jas had fixed meals, cleaned the trailer, and made straight As. Now she’d broken the law, and suddenly she needed a slew of babysitters.
    “I’ll be in charge of your electronic monitoring,” Mrs. Weisgerber said matter-of-factly. She held up a nylon strap. Attached to it was a small black metal box. “This is your ankle bracelet and transmitter.” She tapped the black box. “The transmitter ‘talks’ to a unit that’s attached to the phone at your foster home. The unit then ‘talks’ to a monitoring center in Pennsylvania. The center then ‘talks’to me. Every day I will receive a message that tells me if you were where you were supposed to be.”
    She handed the ankle bracelet to Jas, who took it cautiously, not sure what it would do.
    “You must
always
wear this transmitter,” Mrs. Weisgerber continued. “If you leave the specified area during lockdown times, we’ll know immediately.”
    “Lockdown means you won’t be able to leave your foster parent’s house and surrounding area,” Ms. Tomlinson explained as she dabbed her nose with a tissue.
    Like a jail without